<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>if it’s any consolation. by nobleramen</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24112507">if it’s any consolation.</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/nobleramen/pseuds/nobleramen'>nobleramen</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>(the popculture fandoms are references!), Game of Thrones (TV), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, No Fandom, Original Work, Star Wars - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Adultery, Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst and Humor, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Best Friends, Betrayal, Bisexual Character, Bisexuality, Boys Kissing, Character Death, Cheating, Childhood Friends, Crack, Cute, Domestic Fluff, Drug Use, Drugs, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Enemies to Lovers, Established Relationship, F/F, F/M, Favorite, First Kiss, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Crack, Fluff and Humor, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Smut, Friendship, Gay Character, Gen, Heavy Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Kissing, LGBTQ Character, LGBTQ Character of Color, LGBTQ Themes, Lesbian Character, Love, Love Confessions, M/M, Male-Female Friendship, Marriage Proposal, Multi, Murder, Murder Mystery, Overdosing, Partner Betrayal, Read, Recreational Drug Use, Romance, Romantic Fluff, Self-Esteem Issues, Series, To Read, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Wakes &amp; Funerals</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-03 01:20:34</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,158</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24112507</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/nobleramen/pseuds/nobleramen</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The death of Jason leads to an unexpected turn of events.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Reader &amp; Other(s)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. January 10th, 2016: Alena.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>For the whole of April, I’ve been working on this miniseries. What started off as a way to kill time and deal with not being able to sleep, now has over 12,000 words. I’ve written and rewritten this at least thrice in the last month and it’s nothing like anything I’ve done before. This is new territory for me so I’m in unfamiliar waters, but this is the first time I’ve hit this wordcount and it would be a shame to keep it hidden in my Google Docs.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <h2>January 10th, 2016.</h2>
<h2>
  <strong>
    <em>Alena</em>
  </strong>
</h2>
<p>I was at the supermarket roaming through the frozen food aisle looking for something new to try. I haven’t had much time on my hands to cook as of late, not that I’m any good at it. I’d rather take my chances with whatever is in a plastic box than try to eat the nonsense I whip up. I know a new year is essentially a chance to turn your life around but I don’t buy into that facade. One time I poured some spoilt milk on my cereal, and haven’t taken to the culinary arts since, nor do I ever plan to. I was examining a microwavable mushroom pie when I heard my phone ring; it was my brother, Giannis.</p>
<p>He didn’t waste any time saying hi, instead he went, “Alena. I have some news.”                  </p>
<p>The last time Giannis was this serious about something was when he watched the live-action Cinderella and had very strong feelings about the lack of an emotional connection with the audience. I believe his actual words were “<em>Did they really think they could distract me with the fine specimen that is Richard Madden? I’m appalled</em>.” He’s really passionate about little things like that, but he wasn’t calling to rant about a movie.</p>
<p>He continued, ”Mrs. Dumaris just called. You need to know something. Where are you?” </p>
<p>Mrs. Dumaris, by the way, is my best friend Jason’s mother. I’ve probably known him for about 10 years, give or take. He’s practically family. We became friends after he stood up to some bullies who were messing with Giannis. And by that I mean he shoved one of them and got decked by another so I had to jump in. We got some good hits in, and went home with a three week suspension. Not bad, all things considered. I spent that summer hanging out with him and the rest is history. I can look back at every significant event in my life and there would be one thing in common: Jason was always by my side. We’ve hit a rough patch as of late. He told me he was getting engaged and I didn’t take the news well. At all. It’s not that I don’t want him to get engaged, I just think he’s too young, and I think marriage is a scam but I won’t get started on that now. Anyway, our fight ended with Jason telling me to either support him or say fuck all and leave. I’d never toss away our friendship, over a wedding no less, but I needed time to tell him that.</p>
<p>“I’m at the supermarket, buying some food. What’s up? Is everything okay?” I ask Giannis. </p>
<p>His tone was softer than usual, “I don’t think I should tell you this over the phone. Give me a few, I’ll come pick you up.” </p>
<p>I didn’t want to wait around for him, and the longer he took to tell me the more anxious I became. “Giannis, just tell me. You don’t have to come get me.” </p>
<p>After a short pause he broke his silence, “It’s Jason. Mrs. Dumaris called to tell me that he’s… that he collapsed at home, and they called for an ambulance but it didn’t get there in time, and he… He didn’t make it. Alena, she wanted me to help get the word around.” </p>
<p>I didn’t really register what was happening, I thought I misheard him, “Sorry, what was that?”  </p>
<p>“Alena,” he started, almost as if he didn’t want to repeat himself, “He’s gone.” </p>
<p>My ears started ringing and my legs gave in. I was on my knees leaning on the closest thing I could find. There was a lump in my throat and an indescribable weight in my heart. I brought my hand to my chest and applied some pressure to relieve the pain; it didn’t help. I didn’t want to accept it. I couldn’t breathe and I felt the walls closing in. I was suffocating.</p>
<p>I think I sat there for quite some time because the next thing I knew, Giannis was helping me up and walking me out. He rubbed slow circles into my shoulders as we made ourselves to the car. He let me in first, tucked my seatbelt on, and knelt down. “Are you okay?” He asked.</p>
<p>I nodded, and as my eyes began watering I shook my head. He gave a supportive pat on my shoulder before closing my door and getting in the driver’s seat. He didn’t know what to say; instead, he held my hand and gave it a squeeze. That’s Giannis for <em>it’s going to be okay. </em></p>
<p>The ride home was unbearably silent. I asked Giannis what happened to Jason. He shrugged, “I don’t know. I didn’t want to press Mrs. Dumaris for any more details, she was barely keeping it together when she called.”</p>
<p>“We should go see her,” I told him.</p>
<p>“Now?” </p>
<p>If to me, losing Jason was like my world falling apart, I don’t even want to consider what Mrs. Dumaris was going through. “Yeah, now.” </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. January 17th, 2016: Giannis.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Jason's funeral leads to some familiar faces and unexpected trouble.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This is the second part to this series (duh) and it's written in Alena's brother's point of view.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <h2>January 17th, 2016</h2><h2>
  <em>
    <strong>Giannis</strong>
  </em>
</h2><p>These last few days have been miserable. Seeing Alena in pain knowing there’s nothing I can do to help her is gut-wrenching. She hasn’t spoken much since we got back from Jason’s house that night, not that I expect her to.</p><p>Today is his funeral. It was a quiet service at St. John’s Cemetery, and there was to be a wake at the Dumaris house afterward. Personally, I’m not a fan of funerals. They remind me of my aunt, who died a few years ago. She meant the actual world to me. Every day I’d come home from school and we’d huddle up on the couch to watch <em>Grey’s Anatomy. </em>She loved Patrick Dempsey, but I’d pick Eric Dane any day of the week. Once I got home and she was napping on the couch, so I let her be and went to do some work. A few hours later Alena ran into my room frantically yelling about how she wasn’t breathing. We called for an ambulance but when the paramedics came they told us she was already dead and had been for a while. I can’t help but think of what would have happened if I’d just checked on her a few hours earlier. Maybe she wouldn’t have died; maybe she’d still be here with us today. I’m not sure I really recovered from that, so I’ve basically been avoiding funerals like my life depended on it. I can’t do that today though, Alena needs me. She’s putting on a brave face to support Mr. and Mrs. Dumaris. I watched her stand by the main door greeting guests, making small talk, and occasionally circling back to Jason’s parents to make sure they’re okay. She seemed to be… fine, like somehow this was closure for her, a chance to say goodbye to Jason by surrounding herself with everyone who loved him. Either that or she’s really good at hiding her feelings.</p><p>I mingled for a while, but there’s only so many times you can say, “yeah, he was a great guy” so I served myself some tea and retired to a quiet corner. I made sure Alena was still in my field of vision while I stood by the stairway and sipped my tea. Jason’s fiancée, Rosalind walked downstairs and I offered her a sympathetic smile, she gently smiled back and walked away. That poor girl, I can’t imagine what she’s going through. This is another reason why I hate funerals. The grief, the pain, the aura of literal death in the air is too uncomfortable.</p><p>I heard someone else coming down the stairs and I turned to face away because I wasn’t planning on accidentally being reeled into a conversation. I was minding my own business, drinking my tea when an awfully familiar voice spoke.</p><p>“Still not a fan of funerals, I see,” he said. I didn’t need to turn around to know who it was. And why on Earth does he smell the same? He hasn’t changed his cologne since middle school! What kind of whack job has a signature smell when they’re 15? I’ll tell you: Andrew Jamal. </p><p>“Great, just what I needed,” I muttered under my breath as I turned to face him.</p><p>“What was that?”</p><p>I shook my head, “Nothing”. There was no need to start a scene today, Alena had too much on her plate. I looked over Andrew’s shoulder to see where she was, in the corridor talking to Rosalind. “It’s good to see you,” I say while turning my attention back to him.</p><p>He flashes me a smile and tries to take my teacup, “I’m not done with that,” I say. </p><p>“Yeah I know, but you’ve been standing here a while and it’s cold now.” He says while placing it on a table behind him. “Do you want me to get you a new one?”</p><p>I roll my eyes. Leave it to Andrew to be ever so controlling. Not that he was always controlling. I just take every opportunity I can to talk shit. Is it salty? Yes. Does it ensure I won’t get my heart broken again? Well, we’re yet to find out. “Why were you staring at me?”</p><p>“I guess I forgot how much I missed you,” he replied without skipping a beat. Wow, that knocked the air out of my lungs. I tried loosening my tie, but it wouldn’t budge. Andrew figured he’d let me have what was remaining of my pride for a few more seconds before helping me out.</p><p>“Here, let me,” he said, taking a step closer. I held my breath while his fingers danced around my neck, and adjusted my tie, “Better?”</p><p>I got lost in his eyes for a second but managed to snap back to reality and cleared my throat. “Yeah, yeah. Thank you.” I said.</p><p>He scrunched his face and brought his hands to my shirt again and tried to unbutton it. I held his hand in place and asked what he was doing. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t already hot and bothered but he didn’t need to know that. Andrew just laughed, “Calm down. You can’t have a loose tie with a buttoned-up shirt, that’s ridiculous.”</p><p>“Right,” I say, and let him continue. I couldn’t afford to look at him after that, so I looked over his shoulder, and that’s when I saw chaos unfolding. Within a matter of seconds Rosalind had shoved Alena, who decided the best way to handle this was to slap Rosalind across her face. I ran past Andrew and threw myself between the two women. I practically forced Alena outside while a few people gathered to check on Rosalind.</p><p>I sat her down on the front porch steps, “You can’t go around beating up dead people’s fiancées, dude.” </p><p>She lets out a small laugh, “Probably shouldn’t have done that huh?”. She drops her head to her hand and groans. I didn’t really know what to do so I awkwardly patted her on the back. </p><p>“I’m fine, I’m fine,” she replies coarsely and pushes my arm away. She drags the back of her hands against her eyes and exhales sharply. “I’m fine” she repeats, like she was convincing herself. </p><p>She drops her head on my shoulder and asks if we can go back home. “Yeah, come on, Rocky Balboa, let’s get you to the car,” I say as I pull her up to her feet. </p><p>“I left my purse in the kitchen, and I don’t think I can show myself in that house for a good 20 years. Can you please get it for me?” she asks. </p><p>“You know you have to apologize sooner or later right?” I tell her, and she gives me a defeated nod. “I’ll get your things, go wait in the car.” I say before making my way inside the house. </p><p>Thankfully, Rosalind is nowhere to be seen. That would have been an awkward conversation to have, one that I’m definitely not looking forward to. I get to the kitchen and have a quick look around and spot Alena’s purse. Now to make an effective escape plan that doesn’t require bumping into more people: take the back door, walk around the house, and get to the car without being seen. Simple. </p><p>I creep out the back door and crash face first into someone. They turn around in a frenzy, cigarette in hand, like a deer in headlights. Goddammit, it’s Andrew again. </p><p>“Nice to see Alena’s still beating people up,” he says half-jokingly. </p><p>“She’s never hurt someone that didn’t deserve it.” I clap back. That’s right. I brought in the big guns. Andrew stuck his tongue and god knows whatever else down some skank’s throat and he needed to remember it. “Excuse me”, I say while moving past him and walking away.</p><p>“You know I’m sorry right?” he adds from behind me, “I never meant for you to get hurt.”</p><p>I shouldn’t be stopping in my tracks but I might not get another chance to give him a piece of my mind so I turn around and charge towards him. I stuck a finger to his chest and everything I was bottling in for the last three years came pouring out. “That’s a nice apology. Where did you get that? <em>Cheating For Dummies</em>? You have no idea the <em>hell</em> you put me through. You don’t know what it’s like to feel like you’re not good enough, to second guess yourself every damn day. Do you know how long I cried over you? For you? Hmm? No. You don’t. You didn’t even want me back. No apology, no call, no text. Nothing. And you’re going to come back after all these years and joke around like nothing happened? Get fucked”. </p><p>He wraps his hand around mine, “Do you feel that?”</p><p>I squint, does he really think I’m falling for his tricks again. “The only thing I’m feeling is anger, and if you don’t let go, Rosalind won’t be the only person getting slapped today.”</p><p>He shakes his head, “I feel electricity. I’ve always felt it. I felt it the first day I sat next to you in school and asked for a pen, I felt it when we had our first date at the arcade and you absolutely destroyed me in air hockey, I felt it when we had our first kiss in the McDonald’s parking lot, and I felt it again after all these years when I saw you today,” </p><p>He brushes his thumb over my fingers and continues, “I was a stupid, confused teenager. I didn’t know what I was doing and I didn’t say anything because I was scared, Giannis. I’m scared of how much you mean to me, how much I love you, and how you make me feel. Because no one has ever made me feel like this. You have to believe me.”</p><p>Great, now I’m on the verge of tears, why was he saying this now? “Where was this speech five years ago? You can’t just waltz in here with your stupid slicked back hair and well-tailored suits and expect me to forget everything you did.” </p><p>He holds his free hand up in protest,, “I don’t expect you to. I want to do right by you. Let me take you out for coffee. No pressure, no expectations. If it leads to something, then great, and if it doesn’t, at least you get a free coffee, right? Please?”</p><p>I stared at him, his hand still clasping mine. I tried to see if he meant what he was saying, but I knew if I looked in those big brown eyes I was a goner. I owe it to myself to get this closure. “Ask me again tomorrow. You know where to find me.” </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thank you so much for reading!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. January 21st, 2016.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Alena visits Jason's grave for a good old fashioned heart-to-heart,</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This is a bit of a tear jerker (for me, at least) and it is in the narrator's point of view.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <h2>
<em>January 21st, 2016.</em> </h2><p>The days following the funeral, the wake, the pleasantries, and slapping Rosalind, Alena went back to the cemetery. She stood in front of Jason’s grave for a few minutes before sitting down. She pulled her knees to her chest and rested her chin on them and stared at the words engraved on the headstone. </p><p>
  <b>
    <em>IN LOVING MEMORY OF</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>JASON DUMARIS</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>June 15th, 1993 – January 10th, 2016</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>GONE BUT NEVER FORGOTTEN.</em>
  </b>
</p><p>“Un-fucking-believable”, she whispers as she pulls out a flask from her purse and takes a swig. </p><p>“Jason, your dumbass fiancée put the most generic fucking quote on your tombstone. That shit will be with you forever. That’s what you get,” she says as she takes another sip. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”</p><p>She turns around and leans back until her head touches the marble block, and looks at the sky. “I know I gave a speech earlier with everyone around and said all those nice things about you but… I kind of wanted to keep some things between us, if you don’t mind? How can you mind? You’re not here.” </p><p>She adjusts her position and clears her throat, “You know, I didn’t think I’d ever lose you,” she takes another sip, “The mere thought of it seemed so impossible that it didn’t even slip my mind. Life is funny that way, huh? It’s fucking hilarious.”</p><p>Tears start welling up and she uses her sleeves to wipe them off, still looking up, she says “Can you believe the last time I saw you was a six months ago? I gave you a quick hug, broke away and ran off in a hurry because I knew I’d see you again. I wish I’d held on a little longer. I wish I’d known how little time we’d have left. You know?” </p><p>With soft sobs she continued, “I wish I told you how much I loved you, and how seeing you every day made my heart glow. I know you knew it, but I could have told you. I wanted to tell you. I should have apologized. I should have made an effort. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I just- I wish you’d known. How much I love you, how much you made me feel safe, how not a day went by where I didn’t think of you. I wish I would have called you back that night. I wish I’d never fought with you. I wish it never happened…” </p><p>She momentarily shut her eyes and tried to control her breathing, “Jason, I was going to call. I promise you, I was. I just needed time. I was going to say yes, I hope you knew that. You had to know. You had to. Saying it now won’t do anything, I know, but if by some act of god you hear this. God, how I wish you could hear this. Just know I love you, so much, and nothing in the world could ever change that.”</p><p>She caressed the block of cement next to her head, “You weren’t just in my heart, you were my whole heart and I’m sorry if I ever made you doubt it.”</p><p>Alena basked in the sunlight a little longer and wiped away her tears. Turning to face the headstone once again, she said, “I hope you felt loved in your last moments, Jason. I hope you weren’t alone or scared. You’re a good man- <em>were</em> a good man. You always have been, and that’s how I’ll remember you, my baby cabbage.” </p><p>She swallows the remnants of the flask, gathers her things and is about to walk away, but turns around one last time, “I also may or may not have slapped your girl. I’m sorry, but she deserved it.” </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thank you so much for reading this! Check out my blog https://wrestlingandotherthings.wordpress.com/ for more content!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. January 30th, 2016: Alena.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Giannis has some explaining to do.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I apologize for the delay, I’m a mere trainwreck trying to weed myself through life.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <hr/><h2>January 30th, 2016.</h2><h2>
  <em> <strong>Alena</strong> </em>
</h2><p>This month has already been the worst and the year has barely begun. Every night for the past few weeks I’ve been drinking like I’ve got no will to live and my entire body reflects it. Today in particular has been a pretty miserable hangover but that would be the least inconvenient thing to happen to me as of late. Things haven’t been all that great lately, and I feel like I’m on a slope that just keeps going downhill. </p><p>“And how are we doing today?”, Giannis asks as I sit by the kitchen counter. He places a mug of coffee in front of me and the smell of it makes me gag. </p><p>“Thank you. I’m alright.” I reply groggily, realizing that’s probably the first thing I’ve said out loud in a while. My voice felt hoarse and unfamiliar. It’s probably all the alcohol. Coffee should help though; hot liquids are good for you, right? That’s what my aunt used to say. <em>Drink hot water, you will be fine.</em> If only hot water were the answers to my problems, I’d set myself on fire.</p><p class="inline-ad-slot"> </p><p>I heard some shuffling coming from within the house and I looked at Giannis, “Is someone here?” I asked as I tried to look around. Emphasis on <em>tried</em>. I was too weak to even move, or maybe I just didn’t want to. I looked to my brother for an explanation and he just shrugged and gave me a nervous smile. I knew that face. That meant he did something, or in this case, someone, he probably shouldn’t have. “So who is it?” I ask him.</p><p>“Andrew”, he whispers. Oh. He definitely shouldn’t have. Here’s a brief history. Andrew whatever-his-middle-name-is Jamal was Giannis’ first real boyfriend. First love, first kiss, first everything. And what’s the rule about first loves? You never bring them back into your life. <em>Especially</em> if you catch them making out with some girl at a party. That kid had zero class, and kudos to my brother for picking a dumb one. </p><p>“We’ve all been there”, I tell him and squeeze his hand for moral support. “Let him out. I’m not calling an ambulance because he tried to climb out the window.” </p><p>Giannis chuckled and that eased some of the tension in the room. He called out for Andrew, who sheepishly appeared through the door carrying his jacket and keys. “Morning Alena,” he said, barely maintaining eye contact. </p><p> I wasn’t in the mood to rip him a new one so I greeted him. “Andrew. It’s been a while. When did this happen?” I said, motioning to the two of them before adding an “Again” at the end, because let’s face it; you’re never too tired to throw a little shade. </p><p class="inline-ad-slot"> </p><p>He scratched his head sheepishly, “Uhh. I guess we kind of bumped into each other at Jason’s…” he stopped because he knew that taking this conversation there would not end well. “I’m sorry. I saw you there but I couldn’t say hello. I meant to, but I saw you slap some girl and I’ve been on the receiving end of one of those and,” he whistles, “was not planning on a retake.” </p><p>“Oh yeah, I forgot I slapped you,” I remarked.</p><p>“I think it was more of a punch,” Giannis interjected. </p><p>“Yeah if you call knocking me over and beating the shit out of me a punch,” Andrew added.</p><p>I let out a little laugh. I guess I did ambush him that one time. What can I say, I love a good brawl. Somehow, after having this conversation I felt lighter. Maybe it was the coffee working its magic or maybe it was the way I saw the glint in my brother’s eyes when he was looking at Andrew. That boy is clearly falling for this fool again and who the hell am I to get in the way of it? Do I think they will crash and burn? Without a doubt, but that’s their mistake to make, and the Lord knows I’ve made my fair share. </p><p>I accepted the facts and addressed the two of them. “Andrew, I’m not sorry I beat you up. You were a shitty person back then and you deserved it. I am, however, sorry that you felt the need to hide whatever is going on here from me. If you guys want to take another shot at it, by all means go ahead. Giannis, you’re an adult, I trust you to make your own decisions. And Andrew, you cheat on him again, I’ll break your legs. Are we clear?” </p><p class="inline-ad-slot"> </p><p>“Clear as day,” Andrew said, raising his hand for a salute. </p><p>”Don’t push it. I’m going back to bed, wake me up if there’s any food, but make sure it’s smothered in fat” I said, standing up. </p><p>“Why? So you can clog your arteries in addition to killing your kidneys? I’ll get you a green juice, you will love it.” Giannis added.</p><p>“Bring anything green near me and I’ll bite you. Andrew, you seem like you want to be on my good graces. Bring me the trashiest meal you can find and I’ll put you on the scoreboard.” I called out as I retreated back to my room.  </p><p>I heard a faint “You got it!” as I shut the door and slid under the covers. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you so much for reading this! Check out my blog https://wrestlingandotherthings.wordpress.com/ for more content!</p></blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>